


Shadow of Strex

by ninjacat1515



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fantasy, Horror, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3689865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjacat1515/pseuds/ninjacat1515
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil is at his wit's end with his film production crew. Bitter and frustrated, he meets a unique and kind man who offers salvation. But he is not what he seems, and Cecil soon realizes he's in over his head. (Sergio Vega belongs to eruditexperimenter and is used with prior permission)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mr. Sergio Vega

Humans were so amusing. Always strutting about with such gusto and importance; while their biological clocks ticked away. The modern world had inflated egos that were easily bought and sold with little fallout. Society needed firm guidance if it was to ever crawl out of the muck and despair. With a handful of exceptions, humans seemed incapable of improving; content with mediocrity.

That's where Strexcorp came in. Powerful work ethic, productivity, teamwork, and the drive to succeed. Each employee strengthened another, forming an unbreakable foundation for the future. They knew you got out of life what you put in. Sergio Vega stepped into the warmth of the café, eyes peeled for a particular man; the one he'd been sent to do some business with. Cecil Palmer. Settling into a seat at the edge of the crowd, he gazed at the patrons. 

Every human had a unique scent that was all their own...beneath an offensively thick layer of perfume. He felt himself longing for the days when sweat and dirt were acceptable odors. At least humans had smelled like humans, and not like walking bottles of chemicals. Decades of practice kept the vampire from sneering at a group of 20 somethings. Must they bathe in that stuff??

The door flung open, sending a gust of chilly air barreling through the entire shop. A walking mass of frustration and depression stomped up to the counter. Cecil Palmer. Slamming his bag down and snapping out an order, he earned an eye roll from the barista and a soft glare from the cashier. Grabbing his drink and neglecting to drop anything in the tip jar, he shuffled over to a corner table and nearly collapsed. The despairing human had no clue about Strex. But they knew about him; in more ways than one. Sergio grinned. His job would be a simple affair after all.

 

Cecil glared into his mocha; every disaster in his studio playing out amongst the swirls of coffee and cream. Everything had crumbled and was about to fall apart. Hiram constantly argued with himself, the Faceless Old Woman kept stealing props and misplacing equipment, Steve Carlsberg had no clue what astral plane he even existed on, and most of the interns couldn't take a single step without fumbling even the most basic of tasks. Dana was the only exception. 

Unfortunately, she was an individual in a throng of fools. Cecil needed someone else to haul this sorry situation out of the swamp. He was stretched unbearably thin as it was. No one seemed to actually care anymore. They were just present to pick up a paycheck. He snorted. If they kept this up, there would be no paychecks, because there would be no production. Why, why couldn't they connect the two? What was he doing wrong?

Maybe....it was time to give up. His little company had been attempting to break through the wall and into the big leagues. Only the wall grew more imposing with each passing month. Laughter from a happy couple echoed across the room. Cecil's insides sunk lower. Carlos would not be back for another 4-5 weeks. His boyfriend's energy was fiery; burning down obstacles...like Hiram had burned down their last studio. Shutting his eyes at the memory, Cecil reigned in his temper. It had been an accident....just an accident. 

Oh what the hell was he thinking?! The huge oaf was a danger to his person, his career, his future-

"Excuse me sir, are you alright?"

Cecil gave a jolt and whacked his knee against the table's leg. Whipping his head up, he prepared to lay into the stranger with all his verbal might. But he immediately shut his mouth. The man was the epitome of perfection: sharply dressed, tall and lean, not a hair out of place. Blinking furiously, Cecil rubbed the back of his neck, his temper rapidly cooling. 

"Oh! I'm-um-er-I'm fine. Just a tad flustered from today, that's all." Had he really been that obvious with his frustration? But the stranger appeared to be the only one who had noticed his negativity. Embarrassment retreated and he felt relieved. The stranger's expression was one of genuine concern. And those deep brown eyes...oddly calming.

"That's unfortunate. A gentlemen such as yourself, deserves better. May I join you?"

Cecil nodded. The motion was quick; automatic. Normally, he wouldn't have been so receptive of a stranger's presence. His abrupt acceptance of the man was a bit startling, but he closed the door on his uncertainty. Let someone show kindness. Let someone approach. 

"Absolutely. I'm Cecil Palmer by the way." They shook hands, and the director absentmindedly wondered why the stranger's skin was so frigid in such a warm room.

"Sergio Vega. I'm a business man, and an actor. I prefer more independent features though. In fact, I am currently scouting for such a company."

His pulse danced with excitement and Cecil's eyes lit up. "What a coincidence! I'm a director for an independent film company, Nightvale Productions."

Sergio leaned forward and folded his slim fingers on the tabletop. "How lovely! Tell me more about it." His ears picked up the quickening in Cecil's heart. He had the man's full attention. Good.

The director's entire demeanor shed the forlorn attitude as he explained his current project. "-We're out in the woods and hills, a few miles outside town. I wanted an isolated location for my new film. It's a small scale horror flick."

Horror flick. With a mental chuckle, Sergio grinned. "If you would not mind, I would very much like to see this project." He kept his gaze locked on Cecil's.

"I wouldn't mind at all sir! It would be an honor to have a guest-" His train of positivity crashed. What would Mr. Vega think of his disorganized and lazy crew? Probably would think Cecil was inept at his job. At the very least.

"Or maybe it would be best if you did not visit. My crew has been...unhelpful. They were the source of my frustrations today."

Sergio raised an eyebrow. "Well, I am also a business man. I work two jobs. My main one, is with an incredible company called Strexcorp. Employees there have the drive to see a task through. We implement firm policies to ensure productivity. Nothing drastic mind you, but people there know how to get along. We work out our differences with a smile." He made certain to keep his fangs retracted as he gave a full, honest grin. 

"It seems to me, your crew lacks the desire for success. I would be happy to give them a lecture or two in addition to my visit. I know all about the aggravations that come with employees. For every excellent one, there is a swarm of buffoons."

The director's tension melted. This man...this Sergio Vega, was a truly generous soul. They barely knew each other, but he had already offered so much. See, Cecil? Open yourself up more, and allow people to help you. If this man could tame the storm within him, he could tame his crew. Even Hiram. It was truly healing to be in Sergio's presence. Something about this fellow was clarifying to the mind, and comforting to the body.

"That-that would be wonderful Mr. Vega! I can't thank you enough!" Rummaging in his bag, Cecil extracted a piece of paper and jotted down directions.

"The road out to our location is fairly quiet. You shouldn't have much trouble finding it. There's only the main road, and then a small, single lane drive for half a mile. I'll have the gate unlocked. Since it's only my crew there at the moment, you shouldn't have competition when driving up. What time and day would be convenient?"

"Anytime Mr. Palmer."

"10:30am...tomorrow?"

"10:30am tomorrow is ideal. Here's my card." He handed over a sleek, golden card. Cecil placed it in his wallet, looking to be on the verge of tears.

"Thank you sir!" Once again they shook hands. Cecil's luck had done a complete 180. A sheer miracle. All would get better tomorrow. Everything had happened so quickly, it was dizzying. So much kindness. He vowed he would not disappoint Mr. Vega. Perhaps this Strexcorp could toss a little investing his way...

The vampire had accomplished his job with little effort. Desperate people had plenty of cracks to prod. Greed always won out, and even the toughest minded humans gave into their deeper instincts eventually. Strex would control every business, no matter how small. Control livelihoods, and you controlled people. His powers enabled him to manipulate minds easily; without the individual being fully aware of what was going on. It made him a boon for Strexcorp, and the main reason he had been hired all those years ago. Sergio inclined his head towards Cecil and gave a final reassuring smile. He took the directions, and they parted ways.

"See you tomorrow Mr. Palmer."

Horror flick. How charming. This would be highly entertaining. Most of his kind shunned the genre, ever since the mound of garbage that was Twilight came out. Humans had lost their fear of vampires, of things that scuttled about in the dark. It made hunting easier though. People did not want to accept what their rational mind told them was impossible. Logic was their undoing. Whistling, he exited the shop and vanished.

 

Cecil could barely contain the positivity that surged like a tidal wave along every conduit in his body. Picking up his bag, he waltzed to the counter, gave the cashier a goofy grin, and dropped a 5 in the tip jar. With a spring in his step, he practically danced out of the shop. The air filled his nostrils with exhaust and cigarettes, but in that moment it was nothing but flowers and rain. A weight had been lifted off. His crew didn't listen to him, but oh would they listen to Sergio Vega. Cecil was finally getting the boost he deserved. Things were brightening, and he welcomed the transition with open arms.


	2. That Creeping Vibe

"That fella smells funny." Hiram's golden head curled his lip in distaste.

Dana snorted into her coffee; rivulets of caffeine snaking down her chin. "You're just jealous because they don't make suits like his in your size. Smells funny?? Hiram, that man probably showers twice a day. I mean, have you really looked at him? He is the direct opposite of filth."

The dragon huffed, his tail swishing like a cat. He curved one of his necks, bringing his jade head around to give the young woman a pointed stare. 

"That's not what goldylocks meant. That Sergio smells cold. He smells dead, Dana. You humans have such stunted senses. Ever wonder where the deer went? You know, the small herd that always hung out near that field? They took off the moment he arrived. No birds fly above us anymore. It's been less than three days since he joined us, and now we're the only life here." 

The intern sighed, stretching. "Or maybe YOU scared them off. After all, a dragon with five heads isn't exactly common fauna around here." Dana's pocket buzzed and she grabbed her phone. The newcomer had certainly streamlined their operation. Text notifications blared whenever a break was over. She supposed it was for the better. Things had been a bit laid back up until Mr. Vega implemented multiple changes and gotten people to clean up their acts.

"We better get back to work. Come on, you grumpy croc." 

Hiram hissed. Few could call him that and get away without any scorch marks. He hauled his frame up from the grass and followed; arching his wings to catch every possible ray of sunshine.

 

Sergio was skimming over various financial forms when the scent of dragon filled his nose. He kept his misgivings to himself though. Cecil and the rest had no issue with the glorified gecko. Until Strex acquired Cecil's business, Sergio had to be cordial with everyone. Many things annoyed him about those scaled flamethrowers. One, they could potentially kill him. He could heal from burns caused by conventional flames easily, but there was something about dragon fire that made mending the damage difficult and painful. Two, dragon hide could break a fang.

 

Cecil grumbled. The coffee jar was empty, and so was the pot. The Faceless Old Woman hovered nearby with a bowl, contentedly munching on spoonfuls of the rich grounds. 

"You know, Hiram has five heads, and yet he only uses as much coffee as one single human. You on the other hand..." 

The Faceless Old Woman raised her hollow profile. Cecil could sense her expressions despite their absence. It was something you felt on an instinctive level.

"I'm merely calming my nerves. Working this hard is stressful my dear Mr. Palmer."

The director wanted to point out she had never WORKED much at all up until this point, but he chose to keep those thoughts to himself. Sergio was teaching him to control his temper and figure out constructive methods for greater efficiency. One of the key points was to not allow small things to upset you. He inhaled, taking the time to concentrate on the breathe before releasing it slowly. Heart rate dropping and blood pressure easing, he offered a smile.

"Actually, don't worry about the coffee. It would behoove you to join in our meeting though. You have a few minutes to finish up." With that, he turned on his heel and strolled out of the kitchen, feeling elated. Chipping away at old habits wasn't so bad after all.

The Faceless Old Woman gazed at Cecil as he left. His aura was measurably softer. It no longer flared like bubbling magma. But his altered state did little to assuage her anxiety. Darkness was slithering about. While that Sergio Vega was a pleasure to work with, his aura was rather bizarre. Unable to make heads or tails of it, she had decided to keep on eye on him. Curiosity was in her nature, and she would sate it.

 

Massaging his neck, Steve ambled into the meeting. It might as well have been three in the morning for all intents and purposes. His energy was gone, his brain was a chaotic jumble of trash, and a spider must have been in his room the previous night. His throat hurt like hell....

Cecil piped up immediately. "Carlsberg! You're late." 

The older man blurrily regarded his watch. "Oh...it seems I am....terribly sorry Cecil. Don't know what's wrong with me. Must be coming down with something-"

"How many excuses have I heard from you over the entire course of your employment? Too many Carlsberg. Too many. No matter what I do, your incompetence is monumental. Consider this your final warning."

Silence permeated the room. Steve's face fell even more, and his insides twisted about. He TRIED...God...he tried. He had put in long hours without even taking a paycheck, forgone vacation after vacation...what did this man want from him? His treatment was borderline abusive. But then Cecil had always hated him. Ever since Steve had married the director's sister, he had gotten the impression the man loathed him on a spiritual level. Steve was outspoken where politics were concerned, that much was true. 

Maybe he had ranted about the government one too many times. Maybe it was the way he dressed. Or maybe it was just an old grudge Cecil had from childhood against anyone named Steve. He took a seat, keeping his eyes on the stone floor. A warm hand rested gently on his shoulder. It was Sergio, who offered a kind smile and a nod.

"Don't worry Mr. Carlsberg," the man said in a low voice while Cecil droned on about equipment repairs. "You'll be a model employee soon. I'll handle our dear director. He's just under a lot of stress."

A wave of fear suddenly slammed Steve and he twitched. Every one of his cells abruptly wished to be far from this man. His neck began to sting again, and he cringed.

"Y-yeah, sure thing Mr. Vega...model employee..." His usual friendly and rigorous grin, shrunk. He was losing it, and acting like a complete fool. Sergio was there to help them, not harm. He was organizing their crew, giving them much needed funds, and was a part of the movie itself. Steve re plastered his grin, hoping he hadn't offended the man.

"I'll do my best sir!"

"See that you do. It would be a shame to lose such a strong part of this machine." Sergio removed his hand and sat back in his chair.

The words circled around Steve's head and fear crept back. But he wrestled it down. Goddammit, he wasn't threatening your life...where do you get such wild notions? No wonder Cecil hates your guts. You rub people the wrong way. Control yourself. Shape up. The pain on his neck lingered and he made a mental note to apply ointment. Strangest spider bite he'd ever experienced. It didn't seem swollen at all, but it felt infected. 

 

Rain fell that night, drumming its soothing melody against the roof. Steve yawned, cracking his jaw. The day hadn't gone too badly. Cecil had gotten absorbed in the script, and had all but forgotten his earlier indiscretion. He really should have been off to bed hours ago. It was almost 11:30, and work would begin promptly at 5am. He had eaten a good dinner and had started feeling considerably better. But paperwork had held him back and he wasn't even in his pajamas yet. Filing everything away, he stood and eased his spine. 

"Should make another appointment with the chiropractor...." Just was he was about to fetch his sleep wear, light footfalls sounded in the hallway; right outside his door.

"Cecil?" he automatically asked, before realizing that if it HAD been Cecil, he would have already received an angry lecture about poor sleeping habits.

Trudging to the door, he opened it. No one was there. Every other door was shut tight, and the shadows were still. Shrugging, Steve turned around and went back into his room; leaving the door ajar.

 

From the darkness, a figure materialized; hungry and intent. Sergio darted forward with demonic speed, reaching for that incompetent fool- who then promptly shut the door on his fingers. Holding in a hiss of pain and indignation, the vampire snarled and tried to free himself. 

Steve frowned. The door hadn't closed all the way. Rain had probably caused it to warp- he opened it again and gave it a quick slam. The wood made the strangest sound; almost like whining. "What the hell??" he mumbled, flinging the door out with a flourish and hitting a tall object. No, man.

"Sergio sir! I'm so sorry I didn't know you were there!" Mr. Vega was holding his nose and shaking his hand. For a split second, Steve swore the man's nails were long and sharp, and that his eyes flashed red. But he blinked once and everything was normal.

The vampire held back a growl, mustering up his usual, jovial expression. "Mr. CARLSBERG...don't worry....simple mistake...EVERYONE makes those-no need to fret." 

Oh, but there would be a need to fret. Cecil was not misguided in his hatred of this useless, clumsy moron. He bid Steve goodnight before slinking off down the hall towards his own quarters; his appetite ruined. He couldn't afford exposure, not at the moment. But when the time came, he'd take things slowly with dear Steve.

 

"Good night Mr. Vega!" Steve waved, whistling a peppy tune as he went back into his room again. Such an easy going, forgiving fellow. Why had he been afraid earlier? Ridiculous thoughts really. Maybe he had even found a tentative friend. Cecil would never like him; that was a given. Whatever Steve had done to earn the other man's displeasure, was likely a permanent fixture. But there was fresh opportunity with this new comer; a chance to do it right. Tomorrow was going to be a good day.


	3. Scene 5

"Be careful Steve."

The man yelped and fell over his chair; taking a lamp with him. Writhing about like a fish in a net, he managed to untangle his foot and stand. The Faceless Old Woman was planted in the middle of the room; the edge of her dress drifting as if submerged. 

Steve coughed and blinked. "Maybe if you announced yourself once in a while ma'am, I would be able to comply with that."

She tilted her head. "Cecil is completely taken with this Sergio Vega and the company he represents. Dana too. The rest of the interns and crew, are swept up along for the ride as well. I'm suspicious. There's something unnatural and wrong about Strexcorp, and Mr. Vega himself. Can't quite put my finger on it. They make me uncomfortable, Steve."

Heaving a sigh, the man shook his head. "He did kinda creep me out. But once I started talking with him on a regular basis, that went away."

"He tried to hurt you Steve!"

The air grew still. "No...ma'am...I believe you're mistaken. It was ME who hurt HIM. Accidentally hit Mr. Vega with the door last night. Felt awful, but he swears everything is fine."

The woman glided closer. "I was on the ceiling in the hallway looking for spiders, when I saw him race up to you and reach out. There was malice in his face. Had to stifle a laugh when his hand got caught in the door. Served him right."

Steve's frown melted into utter embarrassment. "So THAT'S why the darn thing wouldn't shut....hoo boy....well...I want to wait things out a bit first. I want to see this 'malice' for myself. Don't want to jump to any conclusions ma'am. Gotta be fair and all."

"Let's do our best to find out as much as possible before bringing anything to Cecil's attention. He has a penchant for being stubborn. We'll need evidence of foul play on Sergio's part. Keep this between us. Take care Mr. Carlsberg. Keep your door locked at night." She floated sideways and vanished into the wall; leaving an anxious Steve alone with his thoughts.

 

"Just a tad further...PERFECT! Stop right there!" The intern obeyed and stepped back from the equipment. Cecil beamed. Such order and thoroughness- no back talk!

"Ok, let's begin! Take your positions everyone!" Hiram lumbered up besides Dana; both holding flashlights.

"Rolling camera! Annnnd-ACTION!" 

Dana crept along the cemetery, fog machines filling the stage with a blanket of mist. Hiram flanked her, thumping his way towards a particular head stone.

"I found something!" He pointed a claw at the grave and wiped away the filth that caked it's face. 

Dana rushed over, mouth agape when she saw the title. "Here Lies Victor Drake...Oh my God...it's him..." 

A dramatic tune rumbled from the speakers. Dana stepped back. "We have to worn the others!"

Hiram nodded all five heads. As the companions turned about, Sergio casually walked up. The friends gasped and looked at one another.

"Warn who exactly?" The man folded his hands behind his back and raised both eyebrows. 

Silence permeated the set. "Well? I'm waiting." Sergio grinned.

Dana face palmed. "Forgot my line- sorry, sorry!"

"CUT!" Cecil barked, glaring daggers at the young woman. The scene had been going so well too...ugh...one little triumph at a time, right?

"Practice, practice, practice!" The director snapped his fingers after each word. Rubbing his face dejectedly, he gave Dana a final cold regard. Perhaps it was time for a break.

"Alright, meet back here in 15-"

"A-A-ACHOO!" Hiram sneezed, spewing a stream of flames and igniting one of the trees. An intern rushed over with a fire extinguisher, putting out the blaze without a hitch.

"Still meet back here in 15. I-I like the burnt tree. Gives the cemetery....a more realistic and dangerous vibe. Give me just one moment here-" Cecil turned on a heel and went immediately outside, shutting the door tightly behind him. A moment later, a hideous bellow echoed throughout the hills; followed by a flood of poorly muffled curses and insults.

Several minutes past, and then a disheveled and red faced Cecil entered the building once more; a smile glued to his face.

"On second thought, let's just take the rest of the day off, shall we?" He burst out laughing and continued to chuckle to himself as he violently gathered up his jacket.

"I'm going for a walk. If anyone needs me, think long and hard about the consequences!" 

 

Sergio found the director hunched over the kitchen table. The man had been gone for hours and had only just arrived back indoors. 

"I don't know what to do Mr. Vega. You've been such a miraculous help, but there are still some rotted teeth in this skull that need pulling. Plus, one of my interns has apparently decided to up and leave without notice! Left his car though, which is strange. It's 12 miles to the nearest town. He must have been REALLY eager to quit."

The vampire swallowed and glanced sideways. "Yes, of course. Eager to quit." 

Having been the least productive out of everyone, and with no regard for authority, the boy had been taken off the payroll. Permanently. Strex would take care of any legal issues. They always did. One of the many perks that came from being their employee. 

"May I offer a suggestion, my friend?"

A moping face rose up. "Yes?" Cecil's lip quivered.

"How would you feel...if your company joined Strex fully?" 

Purple eyes widened. But not out of disgust or shock. Hope filled them.

"That would be...fantastic...yes! Fantastic!"

"All expenses will be paid. You would get a REAL studio, be able to expand your budget past your own imagination. And be able to change out your crew at a moments notice. Just sign a contract."

His breath caught in his chest, and Cecil stared at nothing in particular. "That sounds....nice-I need some time to-think though. I'll let you know...tomorrow."

"No rush sir, take all the time you need. We'll convene in the morning, yes?"

Cecil waved him off. "Yes...forgive my bluntness. I just have to think. This company's been with me for so long you know..."

Nodding, Sergio backed out of the room; slipping away like a shadow.

 

Above, something crawled across the ceiling; fixed on every motion Sergio Vega took. Flowing down the wall, the entity darted after him; as silent as a cat.


	4. Who Goes There?

"Thank you for coming on such short notice Ms. Flynn. Lost several interns over the course of just one week. They're dropping out like flies." Cecil regarded the young woman before him, who sat ramrod straight with a fiery glint in her eyes.

"You're welcome Mr. Palmer. Once I commit to something, I commit, so you can count on me."

She was by far the youngest intern he had ever taken on, but her passion outmatched anyone else's, save for Cecil's own. He smiled in relief. Maybe later on he'd sign that contract with Strex and have his company become part of something greater. Mr. Vega was a persuasive one.

He shook Tamika Flynn's hand. "Welcome aboard! I'll show you around."

 

The Faceless Old Woman had slept under floorboards and in the hauls of sunken ships, so it did not bother her when she discovered Sergio slept in a coffin. He definitely was into his role as the vampire. Played it so well too. Remaining invisible, she crawled across the floor and stood up to examine some files. But nothing out of the ordinary. A script, lists of Cecil's purchases, accounting....nothing that screamed suspicious though. Had she been...wrong...in her assumptions? She had rarely been wrong about anything.

Secrets buried in secrets were her specialty. But never before had she come across an individual who seemed to have not a single trick up his sleeve- the coffin lid creaked. She drifted to the side of the room, keeping her shroud close. Sergio was sitting up and frowning; eyes scanning every corner of the room. He exited the coffin and stepped forward, gaze narrowing. Was he...sniffing the air?

The Old Woman couldn't detect any smoke or other strange odors. But something was clearly bothering the man before her. 

"I know you're in here." His words sliced her like barbed wire. No....he couldn't know she was in here-impossible!

"And I know who you are. Such a fascinating creature...with a penchant for snooping where she ought not to be. Have you spied on everyone my dear? Does Cecil know?"

Her heart shuddered and she melted into the wall; raw fear thrumming in her core. Never had anyone-how could this be-can't be here- she flew to the end of the building, curling up inside a vent. She hadn't been afraid....for decades. How did humans cope with it daily?? Sergio was trouble. Even if she couldn't find evidence, she needed to get the rest away from him. 

 

Smirking, Sergio climbed into his coffin once again. Sneaky little entity was used to humans and other mortal beings being completely ignorant of her presence. Quite rude really, no concept of privacy or manners. She'd be an intriguing one to study in the correct setting.

 

Hiram coughed, his chest protesting the ice packs. "This is very undignified Cecil. And I don't think it'll keep me from flaming." The director fussed over the straps that held the contraption in place, avoiding a snap from one of Hiram's less agreeable heads.

"This is the best we can do right now. I cannot have you burning down half my set. We'll change ice packs every 15 minutes." A huff from massive lungs sent Cecil's hat tumbling.

"I said this won't work. Take this thing OFF!" 

Cecil ignored the beast and retrieved his wayward hat. "Ok! Positions everybody!"

Dana laid down on the couch. Hiram reluctantly settled into a corner of the room. The lights dimmed. "And- ACTION!"

The door opened silently and a shadow crept in. A candle set on the coffee table blew out; trails of smoke curling around the sleeping woman. The shadow stopped when it reached her, bending over towards her exposed neck.

CRASH-THUNK

"CUT!" Cecil bellowed. "What happened? Did something fall over? HIRAM! I told you to watch your wings and tail-"

"It wasn't me." Growled the mass.

"Well- Sergio! Did you bump into anything?"

"No sir I did not."

"Lights on! Let's figure this out and get back to work." Cecil muttered under his breath. Tamika Flynn trotted over.

"I accidentally knocked over a stand Mr. Palmer. I apologize."

The director's temper started to boil, but softened. Accidents happened. They seemed to happen on a frequent basis where he was concerned, but they were forgivable. Mostly.

"It's alright Ms. Flynn. We've been at this for 7 hours. Let's leave it for today." He dismissed them and turned back to his camera.

 

A hand pulled Dana aside. It was Tamika. "I have to talk to you. Privately." 

"If you say so..." The young girl led her away, out into the garden.

After making certain the door was shut and they were indeed alone, Tamika spoke.

"I caused that crash to happen. I had to get you out of there."

Brow furrowing, Dana blinked. "Um-I'm sorry, why?"

"I have a small mirror. I was touching up my make-up, and I could watch the scene play out behind me. You were there, Hiram was there, the couch was there. But Sergio wasn't."

"Of course he was there, Tamika! He was right next to me-"

"You're missing the point! He didn't cast a reflection."

Dana sighed. "The lighting was off, the mirror's small...look, I'm sure he was there in the reflection. Don't let this movie get to ya, kid."

Tamika's gaze bored into hers with a tiger's ferocity. "I. Know. What. I. Saw."

Her face never faltered. She wasn't making this up. The kid might have been mistaken, but she wasn't joking around.

"Ok. How about tomorrow I go and chat with Sergio. You get your mirror, hide, and then tell me what you saw or didn't see. How does that sound?"

Tamika nodded. "I'll PROVE to you it wasn't my imagination."

 

Bracing for a hurricane, Steve gingerly knocked on the door. Cecil fretted about before answering. "Come in."

"Cecil. I need to talk to you."

The director's expression was less than forthcoming. "What is it, Carlsberg? You'd better not waste my time."

"I have some concerns-some fears- about this Sergio Vega. I just talked to the Faceless Old Woman-" Fists slammed down on the table.

"You're wasting my time CARLSBERG! What did I just say?? You do nothing but interfere. If it wasn't for the fact my sister married you, I would have kicked you off this project on day one. You're only here because of HER. You know what your problem is? You can't take a hint. You're a plague. Get out of my sight."

He knew this would happen. Why did he make the effort to come here? To get bombarded with insults? Anger sparked, engulfing his whole being. No...he wouldn't get out of Cecil's sight.

"CECIL!" The words flew out and his brother in-law gaped, rapidly deflating.

"I have had my fair share of mistreatment from you. Ever since I can remember, you've HATED me. And never given ANY EXPLANTION WHY. You just tear into me every damn chance you get. And you know what? Today is my LAST DAY. I'm quitting tomorrow. I've had it. You can find some other scapegoat Palmer. I'm DONE." 

 

Steve whirled around and left. With each step, numbness collected in his gut as he got further from the office. But he kept going. "Enough is enough."

Tomorrow, he'd pack up and leave it all behind. The Faceless Old Woman had probably made her creepy encounter with Sergio up. Hell, she was friends with Cecil to begin with. Maybe it had all been some grand trick to make him look like a fool; give Palmer yet another chance to build himself up while tearing Steve down. Didn't matter now. All that mattered, was sleep. Get to bed early, rise early, depart early. He felt strong. He entered his room and shut the door, latching it tight and propping a chair under the knob. He would not be disturbed tonight.

"Quite the temper Mr. Carlsberg." Steve jumped, backing up when he saw who it was. 

Sergio moved in front of the door. "Cecil works hard. He is dedicated, and productive. You on the other hand...fail to meet his standards. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you...left a little earlier than expected? After all, you just quit."

The man's gaze was frightful and hungry. Steve stood firm. "You sir, Mr. Vega, need to get out. Yes I did quit. I'm leaving in the morning. Cecil may be a hard worker and all, but he doesn't treat people fairly. I'm not going to ask you again. Get. Out." Pointing a trembling finger at the door, Steve waited.

But the other man made no indication he was going anywhere. His eyes had become like pieces of onyx, a faint crimson glow in each center. Steve's rational mind scrambled to come up with a logical explanation as Sergio advanced, drawing closer and closer.

 

The human's heart rate was through the roof, and fear pulsated off of him in delicious waves. Once this annoyance was dealt with, Sergio would see to that Faceless old hag. Strex could find infinite uses for her- 

"AAARRRGH!" Something burned his eyes and nostrils and he staggered back, clawing at his face.

 

Steve kept the bottle of pepper spray in front of him at all times, kicking the chair aside. The Sergio-thing hissed and came at him again with impossible speed, snatching the bottle out of his grasp and pulling him close; lifting his entire body off the floor with little effort. Steve hung there, suspended by Sergio's free hand, his shoes dangling a good ten inches from the carpet. The Faceless Old Woman had been right, oh God she'd been right-

The vampire's voice was low and chilling. "That...was...IMPOLITE."


	5. Apology

Yawning away the morning fog, Cecil tried to gently knock, but ended up with a bruise. Steve didn't answer. Half hoping he had departed earlier than stated, the director tried again; wincing as his hand met the hard wood. This time, Steve gave a groggy mumble. Well, better start now. No going back.

"Carlsberg...I need- no want- to talk to you. I really didn't mean....everything. I don't know why I treat you so poorly. I was bitter about your ridiculous, unfounded-" He paused. No. Be reasonable.

"-personal rants and I can get protective of my sister. Guess I didn't want her marrying a loony- different kind of person- than I was used to...."

"What I'm TRYING to say-" 

"Cecil?...I don't remember how I got here." Steve sounded distant and worried.

"What? You said you were going to pack and leave. I assumed you'd be here-"

"Something happened...something bad. But I can't remember what...my throat hurts."

Cecil barged in, and Steve was sitting against the side of his bed like a rag doll, dazed and with marks on his neck.

"What the hell happened to you?? Did you hit your head?"

Carlsberg shut his eyes tight for a moment. "I-I don't even know."

"Come on, let's get you up. You can sit in the kitchen. I'll get you some breakfast."

Giving Steve's legs times to adjust, Cecil led him out into the hall, making sure to not out pace him.

 

"Excuse me Mr. Vega, I was wondering if you had a minute to talk." Dana kept the reason hidden. Embarrassing Tamika was not something she was keen on. She had been 14 once, and High School was far from the 'best years of her life.' Extra reasons to feel awkward were not needed.

Sergio nodded warmly. "Absolutely Ms. Cardinal. How may I help you?"

"I'm a theater major and would like to know where you studied, how you came into acting, what drew you to this career?"

The man beamed. "That is a fine choice in majors, my dear; a fine choice. I first studied at-"

Out of the corner of her eye, Dana saw Tamika casually duck behind a pillar and extract her mirror. Dana smiled and nodded as Sergio went into great detail. The man definitely had an ego.

Tamika was frowning. She quickly pocketed her mirror and disappeared near some hedges. Mystery solved kiddo. Mystery solved. Dana allowed Sergio to finish his verbal novel before shaking his hand and thanking him for his time. 

When she met back up with Tamika, the girl was less than satisfied. 

"He had a reflection, but last night I swear he didn't show up! I'm not trying to prank you, Dana. He. Didn't. Show. Up."

Her stubbornness was beginning to irritate. "Look kid, you have your answer. Your CORRECT answer. I know you probably saw something and it gave you a scare. But it was just debunked! Please accept it. Now let's get back to work. I'm sure Cecil is waiting." The girl sighed and stomped after her; refusing to speak another word.

 

Steve was finishing off his second cup of coffee. Cecil had given him cereal beforehand, and he seemed to be perking up. His eyes remained haunted though. 

"Thank you Palmer. Much appreciated..."

"So...are you still quitting?" Instantly, Cecil regretted it. But Steve only blinked in confusion.

"Quit? I quit? When? Why would I-leave?"

"But you did! Yesterday evening, you quit." The director was starting to wonder if Carlsberg had had a stroke, but his motor functions seemed fully intact, and his face completely fine. No slurring of speech. Steve was no drunkard either. Just what the hell had gone on??

"I'm going to postpone production for a full day. If you still wish to leave, Carlsberg, that is completely understandable. I was quite a jerk-am a jerk. I did not treat you fairly. That is the reason why you quit. I'm....sorry." Cecil got up from the table and poured himself a cup of Hiram's industrial grade coffee; grateful he had remembered to eat beforehand. The brew was not kind to an empty stomach.

Steve sat, still and silent; gaze following Cecil's resigned movements. "I think I'll stay."

 

Management would not be pleased. Things were behind schedule. Sergio had always delivered on his promises. There hadn't been one time where he had failed. Cecil had yet to sign the contract, and give his company over to Strex. Sergio would have to nudge the situation back on track. He chuckled at that Tamika Flynn. Little brat thought she had found something. And for a moment, she did. But all thanks to Carlsberg, he had cast a reflection for her adorable test. Hunger made him invisible in a mirror. 

He avoided department stores for that reason. And fun houses were atrocious. A victim had successfully evaded him in one of those blasted contraptions. Thankfully, the problem only extended to mirrors and not cameras. Adjusting his tie, he mused over the fact he had allowed Steve to live. While Strex was extremely thorough with clean ups, he still wanted to avoid too many corpses. He had already eaten 7 interns over the course of his stay. Nobodies who barely put forth any effort in their lives. Such a shame they chose laziness over a fulfilling and productive existence.

A simple drug had made Carlsberg forget all of the unpleasant details. The man would wake up disorientated, and hopefully be on his way out. Sergio was going to have to be a bit more assertive than he had been, and he couldn't afford any more interferences.


	6. Slippery Slope

Drumming his fingers, Cecil watched as Steve spoke with Hiram and Dana; looking brighter and more confident. His health seemed intact. Such a bizarre anomaly though. One of many Cecil had compiled into a mental list. Seven interns gone; each he presumed choosing to take a literal hike than remain in his crew. Their cars had been towed by a yellow truck bearing the Strexcorp logo. Remarkably efficient company. Cecil couldn't recall phoning them in to collect the abandoned cars. Strex had simply arrived and taken care of business.

Steve's odd blackout, Hiram's unease, the fact that the Faceless Old Woman rarely came out of her hiding spots. Little things kept building up; like stacks of dynamite in front of a wall. And sooner or later, it was going to blast away and reveal a hidden path. Cecil's situation had been poor before Sergio Vega's involvement. But now, several weeks into it, things had started slipping again. And they were worse than ever. It was like Sergio was half miracle, half bad luck. 

Scowling at the tabletop, Cecil's thoughts began to rage. Yes...bad luck indeed. He shows up, and one intern after the other disappears. He shows up, and Hiram starts to act strange. He shows up, and Steve is found injured and unable to recall the instance he had stood up to Cecil. The director smiled slightly at the memory. It had been shocking, but the shock had made him realize how much of a jerk he was being. There were still reservations where Steve was concerned. Cecil had spent far too much energy on hating the man to do a complete 180 on his opinions just yet. Maybe in a few years. Or later.

Sergio was definitely starting to disturb him though. Where Cecil had held trust, he now held suspicion. He would have a little talk with the Strex fellow. Standing, Cecil ran trembling fingers through the mop that made up his hair. 

"I'm going to go and...ah, chat with Mr. Vega. There are quite a few things that need addressing. I'll be back shortly." Steve and the rest nodded.

Dread pulled an invisible chain on Cecil's chest as he left the building and strolled over to where the gentlemen was seated; an ornate bench overlooking the gardens. Don't come across as angry, or irate. Concerned. But NOT anything too extreme. After all, he has helped a great deal. People have up and left without notice, Steve was hurt, things are getting weirder- no, no. Calm yourself Palmer. Just...talk to the man. 

 

"Mr. Vega. I would like to have a few words with you." 

The other man looked up at him. "I'm sensing some discontent Palmer." He rose, and Cecil was reminded of the height difference between the two of them.

"Discontent is a STRONG word sir. It's more like...difficult to put into words..." Scratching his wrist, the director felt his face grow hot. You're blowing it Palmer. Just walk away...

"But it is discontent my good friend. I can sense your unease about me...and I must say that is an unpleasant development."

"It's just a whole BUNCH OF THINGS HAVE BEEN WRONG SINCE YOU CAME HERE!"

Sergio blinked, his face taking on a dark expression. "I do not appreciate this ill treatment Palmer. Do not raise your voice with me again, is that clear?"

"I was only taking notice of the fact people have been DISAPPEARING! You come here, and over the course of just a couple weeks, I loose seven interns. First I thought they just didn't like me anymore. But they left their cars, which were then towed by your company, and I recently tried to do a search for one of said interns, and they failed to show up ANYWHERE in any database! I just find it all ODD." Cecil couldn't stop himself. The words had been simmering under his skin.

But Mr. Vega laughed. "What do you think happened? Do you think I did away with the lot? Really Palmer. I think Carlsberg has finally gotten to you. You are mistaken. Now, kindly apologize." 

Cecil stammered and sputtered. "I-er-no. I don't think I am mistaken. SIR. You may have been helpful, but I think its time you left. I want you out of here by nightfall." A cold rush flowed through his body. You've really done it now...

Sergio tilted his head, grin a terrifying mixture of anger and amusement. "I'm not going anywhere, Palmer. Now, let's talk about that CONTRACT." 

Cecil felt his emotions subside into a mere puddle as he stared into the other man's eyes. He was so wrong in his tirade. So wrong and unfair with...it all. His thoughts numbed and he reached into his pocket and took out the contract he had messily folded up; each motion mechanical and without hesitation. 

"Do you have a pen?" His voice was distant and hollow. Sergio offered him one, never breaking eye contact. 

"Thank you."

Cecil drew his hand across the page, his usually harried signature a flawless application of ink.

Sergio delicately tucked the document away into his suit. "Pleasure doing business with you, Palmer."

Confusion swelled in Cecil's face. "What did I just hand you?" His brain buzzed in a fog.

"The contract. You just signed, and handed over, the contract. Which means, Strex now owns you and your business. You are now part of something grand and wonderful. You'll thank me later Palmer. Now if you'll excuse me I have a call to make." He marched off.

The director's mouth hung open, twitching like a zombie's. His finger raised and shook at Sergio's back as the man left his sight. A raspy squeal began in the back of his throat. He had just given away his entire life. How was that possible?? He had come out here to give Sergio a piece of his mind, not give Strex complete and utter control of his company.

Tamika appeared, face cold. But her negativity was not directed at him. There was a gleam of sympathy in her eyes. "It wasn't you Cecil," She placed a hand on his shaking shoulder.

"It was Sergio. He made you sign the paper. I watched the whole thing. He DID something to coerce you into giving it up."

"But he didn't hold a gun to my head, or a knife at my throat!! He was just standing there!"

The girl narrowed her gaze. "He was controlling you. There's another reason I came here, besides earning work experience and credit Cecil. I had to lay low until I was certain of his true nature."

Cecil had had enough. "I really don't care Tamika...I just need...a drink. I know there's still some wine in the pantry..." But the girl pulled him back.

"NO Cecil. We all need to have our wits about us. And you do need to care. I'm a vampire hunter, and I have a job to do-"

The director burst out laughing, quickly reducing himself to tears. "I d-don't know whether to laugh or cry, so I'm doing BOTH!" He curled up cackling and coughing.

"Why does the universe hate me so much?? Why? All I get is grief. 'Vampire hunter'?? Utter absurdity. Stop...leave me alone. Go home. Tell everyone to go home...I'm finished. Just let me be."

Grumbling insults, the girl went away for a few moments and he thought he had finally achieved a twisted form of peace. But then a torrent of water from a bucket snapped him out of his stupor.

Cecil sat bolt upright, shaking and sputtering. "TAMIKA!"

She gave him a measured look. "I know you don't believe me. But I am telling you the truth. Sergio KILLED those interns. He's the one who hurt Steve. Think about what has happened since he arrived. It all points to him. We need to do SOMETHING. I've been trying to convince Dana, but she just thinks I'm a kid with an overactive imagination."

The water logged man pinched his nose and whined. Everything was going on all at once, happening too quickly. Too ridiculous...but Tamika was right in one respect. Sergio must have had a hand in those seven disappearances. But as for the rest, Cecil wasn't quite ready to board the train. Really...a vampire? Not only that, but a vampire who had been playing a vampire? In Cecil's own horror movie??

Getting to his feet, he inhaled deeply. "Time to call the police then-" 

"NO!" Tamika snapped. "They own the police. Strexcorp has it's claws in everything. And since Sergio is an employee, they've been cleaning up his messes. We need to gather Steve and the rest. No one goes anywhere alone. We have to make it seem like everything is alright and we don't suspect a single wrongdoing. We need the others on our side, Cecil, remember that. We can't do anything alone, but TOGETHER we can take back control. And your company."

He gave a pale nod. "Let's get back to the kitchen then...still don't believe the whole vampire thing, but I want my company back."

Tamika led him out of the gardens. "You will get it back. That I promise you."


	7. The Hammer

Cecil hushed Steve as a floorboard gave a particularly loud creak beneath his shoes. The coffin lay in front of them, shut tight. Both men hesitated. Cecil wanted his company back, and Steve wanted to help. But were they really ready to stake a man? Tamika was watching them through a crack in the door; ready to jump into action. Steve still didn't remember his run in with Sergio, but Tamika and Cecil had convinced him it had indeed, happened. And after hearing the Faceless Old Woman's testimony involving her encounter with Mr. Vega, all decided that action had to be taken.

With exquisite delicacy, the pair lifted the coffin lid. Sergio Vega lay in crimson velvet, his phone on his chest and ear buds in place. Bits of a classical tune drifted up. Cecil brought the wooden stake forward and nudged Steve, who then raised a sledge hammer. The director's arm shot out and grabbed it before it was swung. 

"Don't you have anything smaller?? I don't want my hand smashed Carlsberg!" Cecil whispered. Steve sheepishly set the behemoth aside. They looked to Tamika, who rolled her eyes and handed Steve a much more manageable tool; backing out of the room to give them space. They had been wronged by this fiend, so they were to be the ones to stake and ship him back to Strexcorp. The wood was not fatal, but it would immobilize the manipulative fellow for safe transportation. Tamika had initially wanted the creature dead, but had admitted that killing a vampire was a tedious process, and it would certainly invoke the wrath of the company he represented. 

Cecil extended his arm, the tip of the stake positioned just above Sergio's chest. He looked to Carlsberg. 

"On my count!" he mouthed, "one-" 

WHACK

Cecil repressed a primal shriek and danced about the room, furiously shaking his hand. 

"Oh Cecil, sorry, sorry! Thought you had said 'NOW'....hard to read lips." Steve rasped.

Cecil eyed the other man like a winter storm eyes a small village. "No. Harm. Done." His teeth clenched so hard his jaw hurt.

"Let's try this AGAIN, shall we? On my count! One, two-"

THUMP

The hammer hit the coffin's edge. "Sorry!" Hissed Carlsberg. "I guess I'm more nervous than I thought."

Cecil slapped his palm to his face. "Maybe we should just let Tamika do it."

"Do what?" Said an amused voice. The men froze and Cecil put the stake behind his back.

"Oh nothing Mr. Vega! Nothing at all! We were just leaving- TAMIKA!" 

The girl rushed in, brandishing a stake of her own. But a blur of motion immediately disarmed her; sending her sprawling on the floor. Steve was kicked to the ground a second later. Sergio appeared directly in front of Cecil, one ear bud out of place.

"What did I tell you, Palmer? I do NOT appreciate such ill treatment after all I have done. You should be THANKING me-"

A sledgehammer was brought down upon his skull. But instead of collapsing or even flinching, Sergio merely blinked, turning around to glare demonically at Steve. The sound of cracking wood came from the hammer, and it's top fell to the floor with an unceremonious thump. The vampire laughed, throwing his head back and slapping his knee.

"You are by far the most entertaining lot I've ever come across!" He wiped a tear of mirth away.

"I was going to slaughter all of you, but you'll fit in fine at Strexcorp! I mean, I have encountered my fair share of buffoons, but YOU take the cake! Besides, it's company policy employees smile on a regular basis. I'm sure everyone will be grinning more than ever when you come into work."

A deep, rumbling growl came from the doorway. All five of Hiram's heads were fixed on Sergio. 

"Why don't you step outside and repeat what you said about our friends?" The dragon steamed.

Sergio caught a second attack from Tamika, wrestling the stake from her grasp and shaking a finger in her enraged face. He moved his gaze to the fire beast. 

"It would be my pleasure, Mr. McDaniels." 

But the dragon was abruptly knocked over as Sergio shot past him, vanishing into thin air. 

"I never cared for dragons..." a disembodied voice echoed in the hall. Hiram sniffed the air and snapped at every shadow.

"Such dimwitted, glorified lizards." The whisper was right in the ear of the blue head, which screeched and shot out a tongue of flame; scorching the empty spot.

"Show yourself you coward!" Bellowed the green.

"You have to be the most disagreeable individual we have ever come across." Grunted the golden one.

"Dimwitted...you're probably right...we are..." Sighed the gray. 

 

Sergio laughed once more. This was the most fun he'd had in months! His schedule did not allow for much time off. Strexcorp rules dictated a rigorous grind at the office. While Sergio didn't tire easily in the physical sense, his mind was another thing entirely. It was refreshing to break the daily cycle. He continued to taunt the dragon; preparing himself to strike at the correct moment. Management would be pleased! Dragons were rare as it was. But a five headed one, was nearly unheard of.

"CECIL! STEVE! HIRAM? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON??" 

An unfamiliar voice shouted from the opposite end of the hallway. Sergio frowned. Keeping himself hidden as a mass of shadow, he looked in the direction of the noise.

Dana and the Faceless Old Woman flanked a new man; presumably the one who had yelled. He looked so...familiar...like the man Cecil had many pictures of all over his office.

Carlos.


	8. The Chase

Cecil couldn't believe his ears. Carlos! HERE! TWO WEEKS EARLY! Lurching to the door, Cecil shot past Hiram; temporarily forgetting about Sergio and the general chaos that was his life. Embracing Carlos, he sobbed. "Thank God you're here! What happened?? You weren't supposed to be back for a while." A wheeze came from the scientist. 

"Oh! So sorry." The director put Carlos down, then winced as his back protested the fact he had picked up an entire person.

Carlos coughed and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Glad to see you too Cecil! Yeah, wasn't supposed to be back yet, but the Faceless Old Woman appeared and told me everything. So I came back as soon as I could. She said you signed away your company?"

The back door opened and slammed. Tamika came sprinting up. "Sergio's getting away! Palmer can explain later! Let's cut him off-Carlos, there's a crossbow in my suitcase in room 4. You and Cecil go out, aim for the left area of his chest if you see him. Hiram, Steve, and Dana follow me!" Tamika shoved a stake into Dana's hands.

"We can spot him from the air!" Hiram puffed out his chest, wings quivering.

Tamika pointed a finger at the exit. "Then GO!" 

The dragon romped to the door and took flight. Dana and Steve followed the teenager, desperately trying to keep up with her mad dash.

 

Carlos examined the crossbow. It was fitted with three shots. He turned to Cecil. "Let's make them count."

The director's eyes started filling with tears. "I'm so sorry Carlos. You leave for a few months and everything falls apart. I started this company ten years ago, and I let it all go to hell. I need to be stronger. But when you're not here...things just-" Carlos placed a hand on his shoulder.

"No need to apologize Cecil. It is NOT your fault. And you HAVEN'T let things go to hell. You ran this company by yourself for years before I even came into the picture. You're a capable man, and that's one of the countless reasons why I love you. Now we can make up for lost time later Cecil. Let's get your company back."

 

The vampire rolled his eyes when he spotted his Mercedes. All four tires were slashed, every window and light pulverized. "How...juvenile." 

Humans were so petty. The addition of Carlos to the mix had begun to tip the scales out of Sergio's favor. He was powerful, but not invincible. And he did not wish to be shipped back to Strexcorp in his very own coffin. Demeaning. The sound of large, leathery wings came from above. Damn dragon....

"We see ya, fancy pants! OVER HERE!" 

"Five heads, and you fail to come up with a decent insult?" Sergio shot back. Several figures fanned out and ran at him out of the building. Snarling, he took off into the gardens. He had called Strexcorp, but had only gotten 'your call is important to us, please continue to hold' repeated on loop coupled with elevator music. He was a top employee, and should have been transferred to a real person immediately. Probably intern Vanessa's doing...the girl was a zombie, and disliked his kind very much. He'd have a friendly talk with her manager later; when this situation calmed.

The hedges provided excellent cover as he blended into the shadows and eyed the humans. He much preferred taking his time draining prey. Like savoring a meal at a fine restaurant; relaxing and euphoric. But he'd have to be quick about killing in this instance. Maybe he'd just resort to snapping necks...waste of good blood, but he needed to regain control quickly. A rush air from beating wings kicked up a cloud of dust; covering Sergio's face with gritty filth.

"We lost him-wait hang on-" Hiram's green head spat a burst of flame; igniting a long section of hedges, and Sergio's pants. "THERE'S THE VARMINT!"

Screeching, he rolled on the ground, putting the fire out and staggering upright. The sheer humiliation burned just as badly as the dragon spit. Eyes glowing red, Sergio darted off into the woods. Oh, how Hiram would rue the day he had hatched. A helicopter or two could take him down with little fuss. 

But Sergio had to get back into town first, change his clothes, and then go directly to work and explain himself. At least he had the contract, signed and unharmed in his front chest pocket. The pain from the burns made his lip curl, and he gripped a tree truck; nails growing and digging into the wood. He didn't have the energy to grow wings of his own and fly. The injuries were taking up anything extra for repairs. And he couldn't risk a quick feeding to boost himself either. The group was drawing closer, and had all banded together as one. That meant a long walk into town; through the muck and mire of the wilderness. 

 

Cecil called out into the darkness. "We know you're there you coward. Give me that contract. This company belongs to ME. I built it up from nothing, and you're not going to take it away so easily." He felt strong again, like he was fresh out of college and ready to take on the world. And Carlos was beside him again. The stress and hell of the past few weeks had disintegrated. He vowed to never let desperation get ahold of him ever again.

Tamika motioned Hiram over, and the beast landed. "Circle over to the right Hiram and agitate Sergio. I'll go left, and Carlos, you aim right in between those trees there." She whispered.

The group nodded as one and got into position. Hiram roared with all five heads, shaking the leaves of the surrounding foliage. 

Sergio hissed. "Overly dramatic don't you think?" he began to back away, gaze switching from the dragon to the woods beyond. 

"Don't even THINK about it or we'll set your shirt on fire."

"This...is a SUIT not a shirt you uncultured swine." 

Tamika came up behind. "You're insulting a living furnace? Guess age really doesn't equal wisdom."

"I am fluent in 9 languages you little brat." The vampire had twisted about to keep an eye on her. But something whistled through the air and struck him in the chest.

 

Blinking in confusion and anger, he glance down at the stake imbedded in his body before turning his head to glare at Carlos who stood some yards away; crossbow raised. 

"You fu-" 

His sentence trailed off as he fell backwards with a soft thud; emitting a low whine of pain and indignation. He truly hated the lot of them. Every last one. They had no redeeming qualities, and as soon as he was 'shipped back to Strex' he would make their lives hell. Embarrassing was too delicate a word. He felt mortified. His task had been simple: get Cecil to sign over his company so Strex could continue their take over of everything as planned. He was a master at manipulation and subtly. And yet...a band of idiots had toppled him. Quite literally. He shut his eyes so he wouldn't have to see any of their faces. Management was definitely going to be displeased.


	9. Shipment

"Don't worry, it's safe. Hiram? Would you be so kind as to escort Mr. Vega back to his coffin?" Tamika was twirling the stake between her fingers, smirking at the prone vampire; who shut his eyes even tighter. The situation had been close to unraveling at the seams but the arrival of Carlos had pushed it into their territory.

The dragon made multiple disgusted noises as he gingerly picked the Strex employee up by one ankle; a burnt hole in Sergio's tattered pants revealing expensive, yet singed underwear. The golden head stifled a giggle. 

"Ain't so scary now, are ya?" 

"The sooner he goes back to Strex, the better. Stop being so childish." Tamika shot at the gold head, who coughed and straightened his neck.

"Alright young miss, whatever you say." Thudding out of the woods, the dragon took flight; deliberately dragging Sergio through a small pond on the way into the air.

"HIRAM!"

 

A gentle warmth bloomed in Cecil's chest as he hung on Carlos's shoulder. He had finally achieved peace again; something that had teased him, and forced him into a thankless journey. His Carlos, his perfect Carlos, was back. 

Tamika slipped Cecil a folded and dusty document. The contract. Shredding it without mercy, the director stomped on each and every piece; kicking dirt over the mess for good measure. 

"I think it's dead now, Cecil." Carlos lightly scolded him.

Steve and Dana moved past, heading back to the building; Carlsberg allowing the sledge hammer to fall behind him and drop.

"Steve! I want to thank you...I just wanted to say...I'm glad you're here." The words didn't even feel strained. While Cecil still wasn't fully on board with the man, Carlsberg's presence no longer sent shivers of irritation through his spine. The guy was an acceptable part of his life. For now.

Steve smiled, warily, but with a genuine nature.

"Glad to be here, Palmer."

 

The list of hideous things Sergio planned to do, would now extend the length of a city block. Undignified, crass, rude, rebellious...all the things he loathed were present in these worthless excuses for people. Only multiplied to an unbearable crescendo. His chest ached, his injuries stung as the flesh finished knitting itself back together, and someone had dumped a bunch of Styrofoam packing peanuts into his coffin; completely covering his miserable frame. At least he didn't need to breathe, and this ego bruising mess was an ideal way to practice patience....

Oh, the HELL with it....he wanted revenge. Not more patience. Management would have a good laugh at his expense, and then hopefully go easy on his punishment. Brought down by amateurs, children...had he fed, he would have reddened at the thought. 

The coffin slid about, bumping into the side of the truck and jarring the stake in Sergio's heart. Hissing, his anger flared.

"BE...CAREFUL..." The words growled out if his throat, demonic and sore. If only he could pull this blasted thing out. He had been riding in the same delivery truck for a while; the human driver having no taste in music or knowledge of proper etiquette on the road. Groaning, Sergio tried to fall into a slumber; only to have heavy metal begin it's ungodly roar once again. 

 

"Are you going to finish the movie?" Carlos quipped as they lounged with coffee in bed.

Cecil rubbed his face. "I have my company back, and most of the film finished. But considering one of the actors turned out to be the real thing...I'm not so sure. I lost seven interns to him. Not that I'm a stranger to losing interns, but I turned a blind eye to everything that screamed suspicion. All because I was too enthralled with it. Strex was going to take me above and beyond...only it was chaining me down before I knew it."

Carlos's soft brown eyes were nothing but empathetic. "That may be true, but it's also in the past. What's done is done. You can't change what happened, but you can affect the future. Move forward. Finish what you started and then go from there. You have an amazing little team working for you, Cecil. Make the most of what you have."

 

Dana slumped on the couch, downing cup after cup of coffee. The Faceless Old Woman thumbed through a culinary magazine, delicately tearing out the pictures of food and laying them neatly on a plate. Steve and Hiram joked over by the window, and Tamika was sharpening her remaining crossbow bolts. The girl raised a brow, offering Dana the weapon.

"Want to give it a go? I could train ya."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm too tired...to everything to get anywhere near that. You know what's funny, is I'm used to dragons and a faceless entity, but I was so close minded when it came to anything else out there. I should have listened to you the first time. I'm sorry for disregarding your concerns."

Tamika polished the weapon, smiling. "No need. That's generally the reaction I get. The last guy laughed in my face. He stopped laughing after I kicked him in the shin. People only want what's comfortable to them. They only want to see what the want to see. My job is to help them get past that."

Dana leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "You're one hell of a kid."


	10. Down The Road

"That's strange..." Frances twisted about, narrowing his eyes at the coffin. Not a live shipment. And yet, someone had clearly just cursed at him after his hand had slipped and the coffin had taken a tumble down the truck's delivery incline. He didn't get paid enough to care, so accidents frequently happened. It's not like he worked for this creepy Strexcorp anyway; he was simply a guy who delivered shit. And why this place of regular commerce, and not a mortuary, would want a coffin brought in, was lost to him. Too early for Halloween.

Quick peek. Not that he was a stranger to snooping around in other people's business, especially during the Christmas rush, but he was already late and didn't want to get yelled at. He unlatched the scraped black box and....packing peanuts. Frowning, Frances began to dig around. There had to be something interesting in here; maybe a trinket-his hand grabbed a shard of wood. Whatever it was, he had probably broken it...shame. He felt down the rod and hit cloth. Yanking out the wood, he gave a snort of distaste as some sort of ichor stained the sharpened tip. Yuck-he threw it to the side. 

Disappointment...of course. It rarely turned out to be anything but clothes, toys, or appliances. In this case, some weird ass-

"Thank you, sir." Frances fell over backwards and scrambled away as a man sat up in the coffin and stood; spitting out a few of the Styrofoam peanuts. He was pale, disheveled, and half his pants were burnt off.

"WHAT THE HELL??"

"I truly appreciate that. Couldn't move all day. You have an atrocious taste in music by the way. And a disregard for the quality of your job. Do you steal from customers on a regular basis? Does your employer know?"

With each word, the man stepped closer and Frances thought his mind was playing tricks on him. The guy's eyes had gone from brown to entirely black.

Sergio snatched up the man with a serpents speed.

 

He brushed off the remaining bits of packaging as he stalked into the building, pointedly ignoring hushed voices and snickering; focusing his renewed energy on going straight to his office. Change clothes, get presentable, go to management. Receive punishment. Whatever came, it would not equal, let alone exceed the amount of sheer, utter embarrassment. He hissed at a particularly stubborn Styrofoam peanut that refused to let go of him; finally crushing it under foot with immense satisfaction. Soon, it would be Cecil and his little troop of morons.

 

Cecil raised his glass, and the rest of the table followed suit. Each of Hiram's heads were focused and calm, a rarity the director savored. The movie had been completely redone, from start to finish; lest they attract any unwanted attention. It was 3 months past schedule, but their sweat and tears had paid off...without any blood this time. Tamika was giving him a proud nod. Dana and Steve were chuckling happily. The Faceless Old Woman was humming a contented tune, running a sharp finger over the rim of her glass. And Carlos couldn't have looked more perfect. A few of the remaining interns sat at a nearby table, all giving him thumbs up. The world as it should be.

"I want to thank you all for everything, from the bottom of my heart. I couldn't have done this without you. The journey was a tough one, and things might not even out for a while, but down the road it will get brighter. To US!"

His crew echoed his sentiments. "To US!"


	11. New Beginnings

The laughter was deafening, and Sergio cringed inwardly. Red tears of mirth flowed from management's eyes as the Ancient pounded the table with one fist and cradled their face with the other. The younger vampire looked to the floor, corner of his eye twitching. It....wasn't....THAT...funny. Perhaps the old one was going senile. They had always held a quirky edge to their personality; acting more like a hipster than a lethal horror. 

"Ok...I'll stop..." Wiping a blood tear away, they looked up at Sergio.

"So you miscalculated. Not a major deal-hehehehahaha- excuse me- you have always delivered your absolute best, so I'll let this one slide by. Calm yourself my good man."

Sergio felt a flood of relief. He had caught management in a jovial mood. They stood, brushing off non existent dust from their suit; many golden and jeweled rings catching the afternoon sun.

"Everything will come into place eventually. We have all the time in the world."

 

She had to get out-clawing and fighting her way free of the dirt, Maureen trembled as she made an awkward attempt to stand. But her body was no longer frantic for oxygen and rapidly calmed. No....it...no longer needed it. Her chest felt...still. No beating heart, no adrenaline. Blinking the dirt out of her eyes, she inhaled with a rasp and expelled the bits of earth that had been obstructing her throat and nose. It FELT like breathing, but...wasn't. It was now a simple motion carried out by organs that struggled to accept their sudden retirement. 

Maureen tilted her head and gazed up at the sky. Sunlight warmed her face as her jaw opened and shut; words gurgling to the surface. "Cecil....what the hell happened...what have you done now..." 

She certainly needed breaths to talk, but beyond that she figured she could now take up being a full time mermaid and never breach the surface. She should have been terrified. But there was something that calmed the riotous tension; and it wasn't just because she'd been through so many bizarre and aggravating experiences before. Her muscles felt like conduits of pure power. Everything had a scent now....she hobbled over to a patch of wildflowers and marveled at the contrast of mud, insects, and pollen.

She needed to locate Cecil though. And finally tell him off for good. Maybe throw his sorry rear out of a window. Or bite him and suck every drop of arrogant blood out of his body. Frowning at that last thought, Maureen stretched; cracking her back. She didn't despise the thought of literally draining her boss, but was curious as to it's origins. There were so many memories of Cecil's shenanigans, it was hard to pin down a particular one that could pertain to her new found cravings. The buildings used as a base for the film company's operations, loomed in the distance. Snarling, Maureen began stomping towards them. 

"I'm going to KILL you Cecil! Literally, figuratively, and everything else in between!"


End file.
